


you are the liquor that burns down my throat

by whats_up_zoya



Category: Nikolai Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, F/M, Feels, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-Book 1: King of Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:20:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28745373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whats_up_zoya/pseuds/whats_up_zoya
Summary: Nikolai and Zoya are doomed to circle each other like binary stars. They are always apart and the only contact they receive from the other is in flares of heat. What happens when one night they get too close?Alternatively: Nine-drink Nikolai is extremely tired and brutally honest.
Relationships: Nikolai Lantsov/Zoya Nazyalensky
Comments: 1
Kudos: 71





	you are the liquor that burns down my throat

Nikolai’s eyes were hazy and unfocused as he surveyed the glittering ballroom. The longest night of the year called for the longest party of the year, and Nikolai Lantsov was never one to turn down the offer of a good time. 

Usually, he could hold his liquor better than the average Ravkan man, for Nikolai was anything but average. But tonight he must have had one too many glasses of kvas because he was practically glued to his throne, eyes drooping every time the music lulled. He squinted towards the middle of the dance floor, spotting a saintly figure in royal blue with a man dressed in a ridiculous violet coat that clashed horribly with his reddish hair. He watched in disbelief as Count Kirigin encircled his, in Nikolai’s opinion, scrawny arms around Zoya. To his annoyance, she didn’t lurch away in amusing disgust. She simply shrugged and let Kirigin lead her across the floor. 

No one noticed when the king excused himself to retire to his private chambers. The demon scratched its claws inside his heart. The dreaded feeling of jealousy invaded the vacant corners of his mind, emboldening the wretched thing. 

“Hmmmmm. Not now, demon,” he said, stumbling his way through the empty hall. He made his way to a hidden chamber, disguised by an enormous portrait of Sankt Nikolai of Pirates and Lost Causes. The paint was cracked and faded but it was still his favorite painting in the castle. He liked it much better than those of his gluttonous old ancestors who feasted on power and wealth. 

The room was well furnished and snug, a small alcove that catered to all of his needs when he needed an escape. He collapsed onto the plush cream-colored couch, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“ _ Yes, Nikolai,”  _ said the demon. “ _ Run from your feelings, run from your problems. In time you will be swallowed by the darkness that lurks within these halls, that lurks within you.”  _

Nikolai thought of the ocean. The open waters that promised freedom and adventure with every raised sail. The world was colored blue. Bluish white lightning on the sea’s horizon accompanied by cool grey storm clouds rolled lazily towards his imaginary ship. The piercing blue of a clear sky contrasted with ultramarine waves popped into his mind. The blue of Zoya’s kefta, threaded with silver as it pooled around her waist when she showed him her scars. He thought of how the blue of her eyes never ceased to take him by surprise. 

Blue was undoubtedly his favorite color. 

He stared at the ceiling, waiting for the spinning to stop, and laughed when it didn’t. 

“Nikolai, stop staring at the ceiling, it’s not a mirror.” He twisted his neck painfully and saw Zoya standing at the door with her arms crossed. Her face was pleasantly flushed from dancing and a few rebellious strands of black curls had escaped her elaborate hairdo. He gazed at her through lidded eyes and smiled warmly. 

“I love blue,” he muttered, raising his wrist towards her. 

“Saints, how much have you had to drink?” she said, moving to cup his head so he didn’t hit it on the solid arm of the couch. Her hands were freezing on the back of his neck, causing goosebumps to appear at her touch. 

“Nazyalensky, your hands are unbelievably cold,” he shivered, sitting himself up to face her. 

“That’s what happens when the ice in your heart spreads to the rest of you,” she said, keeping her tone light. 

“Will you be my ice queen, General?” he gave her a roguish grin that was sure to earn him at least the ghost of a smile. The corner of her red mouth lifted and Nikolai counted it as a win. 

“Only for tonight, Your Majesty,” she said. “You need to sober up.” Nikolai shook his head loosely. 

“On the contrary,” he said. “Have you got any more kvas for me? I’ve contracted a feeling that is quite difficult to smother but I’m fairly certain alcohol will do the trick.” Zoya frowned and he felt the feeling in his chest surge. 

“You’re not usually like this when you’re drunk,” she observed. He tilted his head.

“How am I usually?” he asked. 

“Loud, overly confident-”

“That’s me on a usual day,” he said, absentmindedly reaching for a strand of her loose hair. She swatted away his hand as if it were nothing more than a pesky fly. 

“-With a peculiar fondness for singing off-key folk songs.” she continued. “But you are currently a sleepy, drunken mess sprawled over some cheap-looking couch that your father bought for one of his mistresses.” Nikolai shot up immediately, stumbling over his feet as he stood. Luckily Zoya caught his arm before his face met the ground. However, Nikolai’s coordination at the moment was ridiculously horrid. He swung his arm out, hoping to reach for a stable object so he could steady himself but only succeeded in grabbing Zoya’s shoulder and dragging her down with him. They collided to the floor in a loud thud. 

“I was trying to prevent that, idiot.” she groaned as she rubbed her head. She must have hit it on something on the way down. Nikolai peered up at her, lips parted in surprise. The soft light of the room was lit up behind her, giving her appearance a faint glow. He was suddenly aware of the fact that she was partially on top of him, her arm propping her upper body away from his. Nikolai sat himself up, leaning back on his elbows, and reached for her head. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, hovering his hand over hers. She winced slightly as he grazed the back of her head with his fingers. “Sorry, Zoya. I-”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her legs straddled his waist, the azure folds of her dress splashed upon his chest and fanned out around them. He hadn’t noticed it before but there was an array of tiny sparkling crystals beaded throughout her hair. She looked like one of the Ravkan queens of old and Nikolai found himself wanting to be her king. 

“ _ It’s such a shame you care for her so deeply, _ ” said the monster in his heart. “ _ One day you will lose control and I will kill her. We will kill her,”  _ it said. Nikolai gritted his teeth. 

“You really pick the worst times to appear, don’t you?” he muttered which earned a puzzled look from Zoya. “I won’t let you. I can control you when she’s in danger, remember?”

“ _ Really? Then why are your claws out?”  _ Nikolai swallowed and glanced feverishly at his hand. Sure enough, black veins gave way to razor-sharp talons. 

“Nikolai, what are you-” she froze, staring at his hand. Instead of running across the room as any sane person would do, she gripped his wrist and looked into his eyes. “Fight it.” It was a simple command, easier said than done. “Look at me,” she said. He held her gaze and his breath hitched before it returned to normal, his chest rising and falling steadily. He saw the claws retract, along with the  _ merzost  _ that colored his veins. 

“What would I do without you Zoya?” He meant it to come off as charming but his voice betrayed the rawness of the thought. She gave him a wry smile, still holding his wrist between her fingers with light pressure. She quietly took his pulse and he wondered if she could feel it quicken under her fingers. 

“I think it’s about time you got some sleep,” she said, releasing him from her grip. She untangled herself from him and stood up. But Nikolai was back on his forearms staring up at her. “Let’s get going, Lantsov. I’m not waiting all night for you to come to your senses.”

“And what do you know of my senses?” he said, running a hand through his golden hair. “I am perfectly sensible. And my good sense is telling me to stay right here.” 

“If we’re in here too long people will start to talk,” she said. He huffed out a laugh. 

“People will talk so long as you continue to breathe in my direction,” he said with a dismissive flourish of his hand. “But no,  _ nothing  _ could ever happen between us,” he rambled on. “That would be ridiculous.” Her head was tilted towards him as she leaned on the door.

“Is that a hint of bitterness in your tone?” Her voice was light and she wore a smug look on her face. Nikolai frowned at her. 

“Yes,” he said, finally standing with great difficulty. “I am bitter that nothing can happen. Don’t you wish things were… different?” He surged forward with the look of a jilted lover, his tremulous heart beating inside his chest despite the fact that she hadn’t answered him yet. He blamed it on the alcohol for making him ask stupid questions. 

“You and I are not allowed the simple pleasure of wishing, Nikolai.” Her face grew dark and longing. She hadn’t expected his drunken honesty. 

“I dream of you more often than you know,” he continued. “More often than I care to admit.” 

“Yet here you are admitting,” she said with a sigh. “I’m sure deep down you understand where my heart lies when it comes to you, as well as I suspect how you feel about me. But I assure you, the words we both know to be true are better off unspoken.” Her tone was cold and firm. He trailed after her silently, though his jumbled steps reverberated on the polished floors. She led him to his room and closed the door. They were still alone together which was as treacherous as ever, given how Nikolai’s inebriated thoughts mingled with the matter of his heart made for a bittersweet combination. 

Zoya lingered by the window, pale moonlight hitting her face. Her back was turned towards him and he realized she was waiting for him to get undressed from his party clothes and into something more comfortable. An uncharacteristic blush bloomed across his face as he started unbuttoning his shirt and he was glad she couldn’t see him. 

After he was done changing he walked up to Zoya, who was still staring at the moon. He appeared beside her and caught a look of innocent surprise on her face. 

“I didn’t realize you were finished,” she said. They were close now, Nikolai’s hand cupping her bent elbow as it gripped her other arm. She said nothing as she intertwined their free hands beneath the windowsill, hiding it from the moon. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning in closer and drawing her near. His face was tilted down towards hers, mere inches apart. 

“Zoya?” he whispered and he immediately wished he hadn’t. The crease on her brow returned as she pulled away from him, leaving the air between them cool and confused. 

“Go to sleep, Nikolai,” she said, putting a considerable amount of distance between them. He heaved his leaden legs to the bed and savored the feeling of sinking beneath the covers. Zoya came to the side of his bed and cuffed his wrist in the chain with a small  _ click  _ of the lock. She leaned over and did the other cuff, careful to avoid leaning completely on top of him. 

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” he muttered under his breath, half kidding. She stared at him for a moment, and he expected her to roll her eyes with a smile and leave. He was completely unprepared as her lips descended onto his. 

Nikolai’s eyes fluttered shut and the headiness in his chest grew tenfold as he pressed his mouth against hers. His shackled wrists flinched while he tried to move his hands into her hair. She smiled against him in response and brought one hand up to the side of his face, touching his jawline. She kissed him deeper as Nikolai allowed himself to be pushed into the pillows under his head. She placed one last kiss at the corner of his mouth and he felt her lip tremble. He understood that it would be their first and final kiss. 

Nikolai observed her labored breaths and somewhat smeared lipstick. Her look of awe was suddenly replaced by panic. She touched her fingertips over her lips and blinked rapidly, bolting upright. 

“Nik- Your Majesty,” she said. “I didn’t mean for… I’m sorry.” She turned away and ran from the room, leaving him alone in the dark. 

His mind was still cloudy, replaying the way she stared at him when he asked his stupid question. What had she been thinking? He didn’t think that she’d actually take him up on the request, though he was glad she did. The feeling burst when he recalled the moment after. He knew that it wouldn’t happen again. The expression on her face as she fled said as much. For a second, Nikolai felt her regret. Knowing Zoya, she’d probably ignore the kissing altogether and hope that they’d both had too much alcohol to remember anyway. But how could he forget when the thought of her replaced all the liquor he’d consumed throughout the night? Nikolai shut his drowsy eyes and willed himself to fall asleep. 

At least the monster was quiet now. 


End file.
